


but i wore his jacket for the longest time

by summerdaydreaming



Series: our names were one [1]
Category: Greek and Roman Mythology, The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Gun Violence, Hospitals, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-23 20:52:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2555225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerdaydreaming/pseuds/summerdaydreaming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patrick's heart stopped, and Alfie felt like his did the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	but i wore his jacket for the longest time

**Author's Note:**

> Also available on [my blog.](http://nemetons.co.vu/post/101601961952/and-id-choose-you-in-a-hundred-lifetimes-in-a)

Patrick is dying.

My hands are shaking, and I can’t think, or move, or talk. My breath catches in my throat and I feel like I’m going to throw up, and Patrick is dying and all I can do is watch.

I can see him, through the window looking into the operating room. The doctors are working furiously over him, trying to save his life, trying to save him from the bullet in his chest.

A bullet that was meant for me.

One of the surgical aids carefully wraps up Patrick’s favorite jacket, my varsity football jacket, which Patrick had stolen ages ago. It’s covered in blood, but I can still see my name printed on the back.

My father, President Peleus is next to me, talking in hushed whispers to his head of security. Every few seconds he looks at me, finding solace in the fact that I’m alright, that the gunman had mistaken my boyfriend for me.

Somehow, I can’t bring myself to feel the same relief.

Gods, Patrick is dying.

I've started to cry - helpless, breathless, terrified sobs - and I try to wipe the tears away with shaking hands. Patrick - wonderful, lovely Patrick - has fallen unconscious, and the doctors are becoming more and more urgent and Patrick is dying.

I want to rage and scream and tear apart the person who’s responsible for taking Patrick away from me. I want to go to Patrick and heal him and hold him and stop the pain. I want to do something, anything, to make this situation better.

But, I can’t do anything and Patrick is dying.

Patrick is dead.

I watch one of the machines start beeping furiously, and the doctors rush about, trying to resuscitate him.

It’s not working.

Patrick is dead.

I screw my eyes shut, not able to bear the scene in front of me any longer, stumbling back and sliding down against the wall. Someone calls out a time of death, and I vaguely register my dad kneeling down next to me, trying to soothe me, but I can’t understand the words.

It’s hard to understand much of anything when your whole universe has ended, when the most important thing in your life is gone.

Patrick is half of my soul, and he’s gone. I don’t know how I’m supposed to live without him.

Patrick is dead, and I’m dying inside.


End file.
